


Ms. Kuzuryu's Guide to Keeping Promises

by TurnaboutTrial69



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Everybody Lives, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27872253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurnaboutTrial69/pseuds/TurnaboutTrial69
Summary: Something's wrong with Fuyuhiko. He's been decorating the kitchen lately, everything red and white, covered in strawberries. Natsumi’s heard him humming in the shower, sees him pacing the tiny little living room, manspreading on the couch like he actually lives here.Seriously, WHAT happened to him?
Relationships: Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	Ms. Kuzuryu's Guide to Keeping Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Very much inspired by @eyebleed's Decoding, the latest chapter of which made me go "But what if they DID run away together." Anyway I love Natsumi.

Natsumi doesn't know what happened to her sullen, moody brother over the last few months. She used to hardly be able to coax him out of his shitty, depressing room without halfhearted threats of violence or, as an absolute last resort, saying please. Ew. He used to try to radiate the classic "Don’t fuck with me" pissed off energy, pure boiling rage, but it never worked because he just reeked of sad and pathetic. It leaked out from under his door.

But he's hardly in his room these days unless it's to go to bed or "sleep in" until 9 am (seriously, WHAT happened to him) or to, GAG, have "alone time" with Peko. He's been decorating the kitchen lately, everything red and white, covered in strawberries. She’s heard him humming in the shower, sees him pacing the tiny little living room, manspreading on the couch like he actually lives here.

He never really lived at home, she doesn't think. It was depressing, annoying, how he just rolled over and waited to die there. He's leaned against the counter now, squinting at a recipe on his phone (his new, cheap ass family plan one that matches hers and Peko’s, not the burner he got after they smashed their old phones to bits.) He's not really trying to seem any sort of way. The pitiful sadness that he used to wrestle into the shape of angry is just calm now. He doesn't seem as fake anymore. It's fucking weird. She was used to fake Hiko, cardboard cutout of a brother. It pisses her off a little, how much less lonely she might've been if he'd wished to become a real boy sooner. He was trying, at least, during Hope's Peak. It's like her pet goldfish had turned into a guinea pig, and now he's a fucking terrier.

Peko walks in to talk to him about her job hunt and he's fucking enamored, grinning with enthusiasm that the conversation topic sure as hell doesn’t deserve. Yep. Total lapdog.

Peko notices Natsumi at the table, smiles at her. Natsumi nods back. Peko's different too. Smiles more, like she's decided to give emotions a try. She'd stopped the creepy "I have no selfhood or agency" married to the job thing during Hope's Peak, and now she's freshly unemployed and practically married to Hiko.

She'd asked Peko on the day they moved in, keys in hand, what the hell was up with him. He seemed awfully fucking happy, even then, for a high school graduate with no more prospects, and it had only gotten worse since.

The question seemed to take her back. "I think" she hesitated, bit her lip "He's relieved. He isn't scared anymore."

Natsumi didn't have a good response for that. She managed a delayed nod. When Peko walked back outside to get more boxes, irritation washed over her. Sure, the compound sucked major ass, but that came with the business. And sure, their parents could get a little scary, but she'd never seen Hiko with the kind of urgency he had as he begged her to come with them, never set foot in the family home again.

The lovebirds are tweeting so damn obnoxiously across from her that she snaps back to attention. There’s no fucking escape from their PDA, huh? This is just her life now. His head on Peko's shoulder, her hand in his hair. Seriously, get a fucking room, you two. The cat is the only tolerable one here. HOW Hiko got a girlfriend before her, she will never fucking know. She rolls her eyes. Looking back on it now, he had seemed kind of scared back then, groveling to her in a way that he didn't usually because it was "pathetic," apparently. Maybe the thing that looked like sad had also been scared. And maybe she hadn't been looking close enough this whole time.

Well, she's going to look closer from now on. There. Problem solved. Not right now, obviously, because yikes. They're the most cringe couple in history. She needs to go walk around the block or some shit. She doesn’t really know. Now that she can leave the house whenever she feels like it, she usually just finds herself places, eavesdropping on strangers' conversations, scrolling twitter. Anything but terminally 3rd wheeling.

Her chair scrapes against the floor and Hiko startles like the mice that Peko cried about when they had to clear them out of the apartment. She gives him her best "You good, dude?" look while sliding on her shoes.

"You heading out?"  
"Yeah."  
"Be careful. Text if you need me."

She rolls her eyes.

"Oh shit, wait. Do you need cash?" She regrets the eyeroll. She goes to say yes, then remembers they're kind of broke now so she'd better decline, but he's already shoving a bill into her hands. Whatever. Reparations. She'll bring something back for him. He's a chump if he thinks he's getting change, though.

Peko waves bye as the door clicks closed.

Natsumi makes sure it doesn't slam behind her, because Peko like actually took her aside to ask that she didn't let it anymore. It was such a weird and tense conversation out of nowhere that she nodded on instinct, but she doesn't break promises. And Peko has a right to ask for some weird shit, she guesses. Natsumi knows she's got some shit to work through, and Hiko still feels bad about her whole deal, so quiet doors it is. Really, Hiko should be thanking her for all the shit she already did for Peko because she practically had the social skills of a feral child before Natsumi got to her. She's still weird, even now.

She sighs, starts down the 3 (count em: three) flights of stairs in their building. Natsumi is best friends with Peko, a known weirdo, her ex gifted girl gang groupchat, and her own brother. Gag. Bullshit aside, she thinks she's happy about that. She never felt like his friend before Hope's Peak. He's always been a pretty good brother, she guesses, always there for her when shit got heated with the parents, but not super present otherwise. It’s not like she needed him to babysit her, she was just tired of the "I don't have time for you" act. Half the reason she attached herself to Peko's hip at the beginning of their first semester was because he sure as hell never seemed interested in being her friend before. But then he did, suddenly, and that was mortifying, because she did NOT want to become the Sharpay and Ryan of Hope's Peak.

She shoves open the front door. Probably should've brought a thicker jacket, something a little warmer than just the turtleneck and flannel she had stolen from her sappy roommates, who were too busy swapping spit to notice. Whatever. She looks cute. She turns left, starts to walk to the nearest (and therefore her favorite) tea place fast as she can. The bell chimes and indoor heating washes over her again, a major fucking relief. She orders a boba from the mean gay guy who works weekdays. Mango, of course. He nods at her. She nods back, because she is nothing if not a cool teen. She didn't used to want friends but once she got a few it kind of became addictive. She should totally make friends with this guy. He's a total bitch. Maybe she should pick up a job here. Christ. A job. Going legit and for what, boba? Her standard of living has PLUMMETED.

Mr. gay barista slides her boba over, yellow straw to match the sunset colored tea. Life is great, actually.  
She sits close to the window, watches for any interesting freaks walking by. Their neighborhood is usually full of cool, fun freaks, not the genuinely scary kind, but Hiko insisted on getting her mace. And hell, who is she to deny free mace? She loves being armed.

No one else is in here gossiping, so she opens her notes app, sets to work on her mental red string pinboard. 'Hiko's weird.' No shit sherlock. 'Hiko's weirdER than he used to be.' There. Better. 'Why does he like me now' doesn't feel exactly right, because he never seemed to like, hate her. Even though he for sure undermined her every bid for inheriting the business tm. She caught on to that pretty quick, thanks Hiko, you're not slick. Maybe 'why is he happy now?' But that doesn’t feel exactly right either, because like, she gets it. To an extent. Not his freaky 180 shift, but it's been a pretty good fucking month. She's gotten to live out her childhood dream of running the fuck away and seeing if anyone ever bothered to notice. Or care.

She always figured Hiko would, eventually. Mom might? She was for sure mom's favorite, so maybe. Neither of them have seemed to notice so far, even with all three of them missing.

But Natsumi's smart enough to know they're keeping a low profile on purpose. Hell, maybe mom and dad are worried sick looking everywhere, in all the wrong places. Eh, that's their problem.

It figures Peko wouldn't want to be found.  
They gave her a raw, bloody fucking deal. This really has been a GREAT fucking month.

She looks back down at her phone with a grin.

'Relieved.' Okay. That leads to 'What was he so' worried about? No 'scared of.' Hell if she knows, other than premarital sex and he has unfortunately conquered that phobia. If she has to see one more sock on their door she's going to snap and become her mother. Propriety! She rolls her eyes.

He's always been a jumpy motherfucker, still is. 'Chair.' The fucking chair sound. 'Loud sounds.' The door? Could be why Peko talked to her about it. He ought to be used to it with how much dad used to slam doors. Fuck. She'd forgotten about that. That’s how she used to be able to tell when someone was in big trouble. Thinking about all this crap is starting to make her stomach drop, and besides she's probably reading too much into shit anyway.

She's almost chokes on a boba that launches toward the back of her throat like a bullet. Ew. She's down to just the dregs at the bottom of the cup, and almost tosses it before she remembers Peko will eat plain boba by the handful for whatever fucking reason. And enjoy it. Freak. She orders some macaroons to go, one for her, one for Hiko. Almond flavored. Pink icing.

Natsumi arrives at apt. 306, the new and vastly downsized Kuzuryu residence. She unlocks the door with her shitty key that always sticks. She bugged Hiko to switch keys with her after a day and a half of that nonsense and he did, but it turns out they all stick. Fun. She shoulders the door open too far on accident, barely frees her key from the ravenous jaws of the lock, and turns to see Hiko at the kitchen table blinking up at her, startled then amused. Fucker. He's got what looks like an entire bank's worth of payment forms and checks in front of him. She starts shutting the door. He doesn't react. She thinks about slamming it. Hard. She doesn't.

He waves at her like the queen of fucking England. Or like Sonia Nevermind. He's got ink all over the side of his hand, uses the other to stifle a yawn. She locks the door immediately because he's right there and he’s the one who keeps nagging her to remember it so they don’t get "burgled."

He's wearing different, equally ugly, clothes than when she left, towel around his neck. Peko is nowhere to be seen and she hears the shower running. Fucking ew. She hates it here. He doesn't even deserve these macaroons. She hands the box over. His face softens as he opens it. He doesn't have to look so fucking surprised. She's a saint, really. Speaking of, she sits the boba at Peko's side of the table.

"Thanks." He says it like he means it. Embarrassing.

"You're welcome." Great. She sounds just as sappy. They're both lame as hell. She sits across from him, scoots the chair back carefully. He's giving her his full attention, which he keeps doing lately, and its weird. She folds her hands together like she’s at a PTA meeting. Unfolds them, because what the hell? She’s nervous, and being nervous makes her bitchy, and she's trying not to be bitchy for once.

"Are you fucking okay?" Oops. Accusatory AND bitchy! Great job, Kuzuryu.

He snorts, but his voice is all sincere again. "I'm fucking fantastic."

Great. She asked a question and he answered. That’s how conversations work. Now she needs to ask another one. She sits there dumb and quiet.

"Hey, we're gonna be fine. I'm stressed about money and shit, but we're good, I’m fucking golden. Promise." He looks tired.

"Okay." She says to her hands, clenches them into fists. She believes that much. He's okay now. Getting there. But he wasn't okay before, was he, and she never fucking noticed. Tears sting her eyes. Not now, Natsumi, be a big girl. "Hiko, did they hurt you?"

His shoulders fall and he runs a hand through his hair. He huffs out a breath before he looks up at her with that half smirk that means he's gonna crack a shitty joke, but he sees her sniffling and he falters.

"Yeah." He says it quiet, can't make eye contact. "They did."

She drums her nails on the table like a time bomb. She wants to blow up at him, her parents, Peko. Peko! How could she let this happen when her whole damn job or purpose or what the fuck ever was to protect him? Her heart flips in her chest. She's an idiot. How could Peko have stopped it?

"Why didn't you tell me?" She says it louder than she means to, hears the water shut off from the bathroom.

He collects his thoughts, leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head looking anything but relaxed. There's the damn posturing again. She feels the tea curdle in her gut.

"You were so young. And I didn't know how. I was just trying to keep you safe, I guess. Didn't want you walking around pissed enough to pick a fight with them. You wouldn't have won."

That's bullshit. Acting like she needed protecting. They never hit her. Ever. She could've told them off and they would have deserved it and nothing would've come of it except for hurt feelings. Hell, he talked back to them like it was his job all the damn time, any time she got in the least bit of trouble. He wouldn't even let her get chewed out on her own without barging in and starting shit, hogging all the attention.

Distracting them. He was distracting them.

She walks across the table like a woman possessed, towers over him. "How many times did you take the hit for me?"

He laughs, bitter, and she bristles. "I don't know Natsumi, it's not like I kept count." His voice turns serious. "It's hard to remember a lot of it."

He doesn't remember and she's too much of a dipshit to have bothered noticing. Fucking fantastic. All she really remembers is how miserable he always was. How Peko would fawn over him like he was made of glass, shoot her icy glares every time she acted out.

God. No fucking wonder. Now Hiko's looking at her all worried. Idiot. She's not the one who needs worrying over.

She imagines him, all skin and bones, age 10, at the mercy of their parents’ hands. He's always been so small. She wipes a furious sleeve across her face. It comes back wet.

"Fuck you. Idiot. You shouldn't have done that."

He scoffs and stands from his chair, still only comes up to about her chin. His jaw is set. He pulls her into hug. Bullshit. She isn’t the one who needs a hug right now. Motherfucker. She hugs him back so hard her arms shake.

"Dumbass. I love you."

He's said that before, of course, because he's her stupid bighearted brother, but boy does it make her feel like shit right now in a way it never has before. Selfish girl, mom used chide her. Self-centered bitch, Mahiru had snapped at her. They were right.

The bathroom door opens and she makes direct eye contact with Peko. She peeks her head out, also in fresh clothes, running a towel through her hair, brow furrowed. She takes in the weird, teary atmosphere of the room and the furrow deepens. She's gonna get wrinkles at this rate.

She's a brave bitch though, cause Natsumi watches her steel herself and walk right out into the emotions instead of closing the bathroom door again and taking another shower to wash off the awkward like she would've done.

Peko clears her throat before she approaches, outstretches a careful hand to each of their shoulders. "Is everything... okay?"

Clearly the fuck not. She shakes her head no at the same time Hiko says yes. Bullshit. Nothing has ever been okay. But Natsumi doesn’t blame her for asking and she doesn’t blame Hiko for answering. What the fuck else do you say?

She's suddenly fiercely glad that Peko is here, that she's been there for Hiko this whole time. Hiko might have the world's shittiest sister, but at least has a pretty fucking great girlfriend. Natsumi's chest wants to cave in. She pulls Peko into the hug too, probably a little too quickly, because Peko nearly falls with a surprised yelp.

"I'm going to kill them." She nearly growls it.

Natsumi doesn't break promises.

She expects the no from Hiko. He's too much of a pushover for his own damn good. He's always been a pussy about killing people. But it comes from Peko instead.

"No. Let me." She says it in her scary voice. Her scary voice doesn't work on Natsumi. They lock eyes over Hiko's head, silent tug of war.

Hiko starts shaking between them and both of them look down to see him crying. Oh fuck. What did she say? She looks back up at Peko, who looks equally panicked.

Both of them freeze, then crash into motion. She runs to the bathroom to get tissues and by the time she's back, Hiko's been sat down in his chair and has a glass of water in front of him. Peko's in the next chair over, hand circling his back.

She sits on the other side of him, shoves the tissues at him awkwardly. Should she leave? Does he even want her here? She's acutely aware of every time she's ever called him a pussy for crying and fights the urge to slam her face against the table and groan. This sucks.

He takes a shuddering breath and blows his nose. Gross. Then he looks between them, what starts as a fond smile turning into a shaky grin.

"Sorry. But I want to do it. The thought of either of you going back there scares the shit out of me."

This starts a civil debate that lasts for a good 30 minutes, ends in a tie (officially. She knows she won and won't be told otherwise) with all of them dozing on the couch watching iron chef. Except Hiko. He's fucking rapt. Her head leans against his shoulder, and Peko's legs are stretched over both of them. Cosmically fucking unfair that she's that tall. Natsumi feels like she's 11 again, but there’s no more of that weirdness between the three of them, the big kids secrets she wasn’t let in on, the lonely that trailed around her like a loser friend she couldn’t shake.

Next time she opens her eyes, Peko's carrying her to bed, and now she's 8 years old, and Peko is the coolest ever, a total mystery, a badass. As Peko lays her down, Natsumi reaches for her hand. Peko startles, surprised to see her awake, but lets her take it.

"Thanks." But that by itself feels too heavy to drop on her. "For bringing me to bed."

Peko smiles. Really smiles, and pulls her hand away, brushes Natsumi’s hair from her face.

"Sleep well."

She does. She sleeps like the dead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Enjoy my new OC: unnamed gay barista.


End file.
